I really have to stop these crying jags.
• • •
During the night the snowfall ended. The sun was up, sending streaks of brightness through the bare branches of the oak tree when Nelda let Kelly out on his rope. A redbird, swaying on a slender branch at the very top of the tree, trilled, and was scolded by a sassy blue jay from the lilac bushes along the edge of the yard.
Despite the sun, it was cold and still. The landscape was pristine white. The wind had worked the snow into rolling drifts. No tracks were visible
anywhere. On the north side of the house the pines grew close, their interlaced boughs all heavy with snow.
Later, when she heard the sound of a tractor, Nelda went to the window to see a big green machine with a blade on the front clearing the lane leading to her house. She was not sure whether it was Lute or his hired man, but as it neared, she recognized Lute’s dark blue parka.
Lute saw Nelda standing in the window as he cleared the lane. An uneasiness crept into his mind that had nothing to do with the heavy drifts of snow. It lingered there like a nagging toothache. There had been dark circles beneath her eyes when he lifted her out of the snow, and her cheeks were hollow, evidence that she had lost weight. When she thanked him for taking Eric to Linda and then shut the door in his face, she had looked as if she didn’t have a friend in the world.
Linda had told him that Nelda had come out in the snow to pick her up at the Shell station the night she left Kurt and that she had given Eric the best Christmas he’d had in a long time. Linda couldn’t praise her enough.
Embarrassed, Linda had admitted that it had been Kurt making the obscene calls to Nelda and that he had come out to the farm looking for her.
A harsh hand squeezed Lute’s dry throat. He had been a damn fool. He had let his fear of being cast again into that old pit of misery, that had taken
him so long to climb out of, make him say hurtful things to her.
He was hopelessly, desperately in love with her, and had been since he was seventeen and she was fifteen. He wondered if he had the strength to endure the time it would take to adjust once again to life without her after she went back to the city.
C
hapter
T
wenty
N
ELDA HAD NO INTENTION OF GOING TO
K
URT
Branson’s funeral. She had called the florist shop across from the cemetery and ordered a houseplant in a ceramic container to be sent to Linda.
Later, on the day of the funeral, Norris Smithfield called.
“Oh, Norris, I’m so glad to hear from you. I didn’t think you’d be back until after the first of the year.”
“Now that’s the kind of greeting a man likes to get. I’ll be heading out again soon. How’er ya doin’, pretty girl?”
“I’m getting cabin fever.” Nelda laughed nervously.
“How would you like to spend New Year’s Eve in Minneapolis?”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
“Hey, now. I like a girl who knows what she wants to do. I have a friend I want you to meet.”
“How long will you be there?”
“A few days, then back here for a few days, after that, on to Ohio.”
“I’ll have to find a place for Kelly. Does Gary board dogs?”
“He does. If you’ll cook me some supper, I’ll be out and drop Kelly off at Gary’s on my way back. We should leave for Minneapolis early in the morning. I have a round of appointments.”
“Do I need to make hotel reservations?”
“You can stay in my apartment. I’ll not be there, so don’t be getting all nervous-Nellie on me.”
Nelda laughed for the first time in days. “What time will you be here?”
“Around seven. Is that okay?”
“Perfect. See you then.”
• • •
Nelda greeted Norris with a too-bright smile. He noticed immediately the tenseness in her manner.
“Something smells good,” he said after he gave her a peck on the cheek and scratched Kelly behind the ears. He shed his coat and hung it on a peg beside the back door.
“I hope you like pasta.”
“I’m Italian, couldn’t you tell?” He toed off his boots and came in his stockinged feet to peer into the pan on the stove.
“With that red hair?” Nelda rolled her eyes.
She liked being with him. He was fun, comfortable, and unthreatening. She made a nest of pasta on their plates and filled it with a generous amount of meat sauce. After taking garlic bread from the oven,
she took her place at the table and Norris sat down opposite her.
“Did you learn how to cook while decorating Falerri’s nightclub?”
“Heavens, no. He wouldn’t serve anything as mundane as spaghetti. If he did, he’d call it something else.”
“You’re right. By the way, while I was in Chicago, I went to the club. You did a classy job.”
“Thanks. I guess he’s given up on me. He’s not called lately.”
“I’m afraid you lost out to a leggy blonde. He was all over her like a cheap blanket, and she was loving it.”
“Oh, shoot! I just can’t win for losing.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and Norris noticed.
“You’re not very happy these days, are you, honey?” He reached for her hand. She placed her fork on her plate and her hand crawled across the table to meet his.
“Not really. I’ve got to get away from here.”
“Can’t stand the isolation?”
“That’s part of it. I need to look for a furnished apartment in Minneapolis. I can stay in a hotel for a few days.”
“I’ve got a few things in mind. I’ll tell you about them on the way up tomorrow.”
“More spaghetti?”
“No, but it’s awfully good. I get hungry for a home-cooked meal. Living high on the hog isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
He was so easy to be with. When she was with Lute she was constantly on guard.
After Nelda stacked the dishes, they wandered into the living room and sat down on the couch.
“I always did want to know about prenatal care,” he said scanning the selection of books stacked on the coffee table. “
The Care and Feeding of an Infant, How to Toilet Train a Child with a Minimum of Fuss.”
Hummm . . .” His bright blue eyes focused on Nelda’s flushed face. “You’re pregnant.”
“How . . . did you know?”
“It wasn’t hard to figure out.” He carefully restacked the books. “Is it something you wanted to happen?”
“Not wanted, but now that it did, I’m glad.”
“It’s Lute’s, of course. Does he know?”
“No. And he mustn’t know!”
“Why not? You love him, don’t you?”
She felt a spark of annoyance that her secret was so easily uncovered. He put his arm around her and pulled her close to his side. She laid her head on his shoulder.
“When do you expect the baby?” he asked quietly.
“August.” She hugged him briefly, then pulled away from him. “I’m going to have a baby. I’m so glad to finally be able to say it out loud.”
“How about that? I’ve turned into a shrink!” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Now pay me fifty bucks. I’ll get the hell out of here and take Kelly to Gary’s.”
“I think I love you, Norris.”
“Yeah. Like a favorite uncle.” He groaned.
“Something like that, you fraud. Norris, I need to see an obstetrician,” Nelda said as he was putting on his coat.
“Know one?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to call my friend in Minneapolis and ask her to make an appointment for you?”
“I’d appreciate it,” she said softly.
“Consider it done. I’ll pick you up in the morning about seven.”
She stood in the door and watched him brush the snow from the windshield of his car. He started the motor and set the wipers moving, then came back to the porch and took Kelly’s leash.
“See you in the morning, sugar.”
“Thank you for taking Kelly. ’Bye, Kelly,” Nelda called. “You’ll have fun barking at the other dogs at Gary’s.”
Nelda tidied up the kitchen, then went upstairs to get her traveling bag out of the closet. She packed all she wanted to take for the few days she would be away, planning to ship some of her things when she made the permanent move.
She undressed and sat on the edge of the bed until her feet got cold. She reviewed her situation and came to the same sad conclusions. She loved Lute, but he didn’t love her. Since that was the way things had turned out, she would build her life around their child. She lay back, rolled over on her stomach, buried her face in her pillow, and wished for
sleep to wipe the troubled thoughts from her mind and the ache from her heart.
• • •
It was a little after seven when Norris stopped the car at the end of the lane to let the black pickup pass. He tooted the horn and waved. Lute lifted his hand from the wheel in a salute. The glimpse Nelda had of his set face lasted only a few seconds, but the image stayed in her mind all day.
Lute thought Norris had spent the night with her! He thought she was the kind of woman who would sleep around. That hurt. Really hurt.
“Your appointment is for twelve-thirty. I’ll have you there in plenty of time,” Norris assured her.
While he drove, Nelda told him about the happenings during the Christmas holidays and how much she had enjoyed shopping for Eric.
“Linda is lucky to have you for a friend.”
“I was lucky to have a child in the house during Christmas. I was dreading the holidays.”
“Didn’t Rhetta invite you out?”
“Yes, but I didn’t want to intrude on their family holiday. She invited me for New Year’s Eve, too. Oh, I forgot to tell her that I’d be away.”
“Don’t worry about it. I told her.” Norris’s devilish grin told her that he had let Rhetta draw her own conclusions about this trip to Minneapolis.
“You . . . didn’t.”
“I told her that you and I would be ringing in the New Year in the big city. I’m sure word will get around.”
“You’re trying to ruin my reputation.”
“Yeah. How does it feel to be a fallen woman?”
The car edged into a lane of traffic when they reached Minneapolis, swung off the highway, and made its way down a tree-lined street of ultramodern buildings. They pulled into a circular drive and parked.
The inside of Norris’s building fairly screamed affluence. In the elevator, he inserted a key, and the cage moved. In seconds it slid to a gentle stop, and the door opened.
The apartment was elegant but comfortable. When Norris invited her to make herself at home, Nelda slipped out of her cashmere coat and removed her hat and gloves.
“I’ve some calls to make,” he explained. “There should be snacks in the kitchen if you’re hungry. Lots of dill pickles and peanut butter.” He grinned at her and tweaked her nose.
“Oh, hush! Go make your calls. I’m not going to throw up all over your lovely carpet.”
He disappeared into another part of the apartment, and she surveyed the tastefully decorated room. Norris probably employed a live-in housekeeper or one who came in daily. The many plants, which were set in just the right places, would need constant care. The pale green silk-covered sofa and matching pillows, the Louis XV chairs, the tables with delicately carved legs and the silk-shaded lamps were all perfect, just the right setting for a man like Norris Smithfield. But not for Lute . . . or her, the thought popped unbidden into her mind.
She wandered down the hall and found a
bathroom. When she came out, she heard Norris’s voice coming from another room.
“Thank you, darling. Won’t you try to come over?” He paused. “Then meet us for dinner. All right, we’ll meet you here at six. Is everything all right? Jenny too? I’m glad your cold is better, sweetheart. I’m anxious for you to meet Nelda. You two are quite a lot alike . . .”